Broken Fairytale
by RainbowFedora
Summary: Arthur Kirkland was a promising young fantasy writer. He's always loved magical creatures and made up lands, so becoming a novelist would be a dream. But with a family like his, and an illness taking over his life, he won't be able to reach that goal. "The schizophrenia is getting worse, Arthur." "Nothing is wrong with me! Can't you see that they're real!" Mental hospital AU
1. When It All Goes Down

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, claim to own it, or am a writer or illustrator for it, the person you are thinking if is Hidekaz Himaruya, and you should love him.**

**Warning(s): violence, swearing, abuse **

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"Remove your bloody hands from me you gits! Get off of me now!" The blond man shouted at the top of his lungs, anger easily being heard in his tone.

The last thing Arthur wanted to happen was this.

Getting carried off to god knows where by strong guys in all white scrubs with little to no explanation is nothing like what the blond Englishman wanted to do when he left high school.

Arthur bit and clawed at the large men, yelling insults at the two all the while.

"Do they really have to be so rough with him?" Arthur heard the Welsh accent of his brother Dylan ask.

A strong Scottish accent was heard next, saying "If he wasn't such a violent idjit then they wouldn't have to."

Arthur looked into his eldest brother's eyes, the gaze being that of pure venom. He never thought it would come to this. That his brother would be so unforgiving as to do something as underhanded as have Arthur hauled away.

"And what do you think YOU'RE looking at, Artie? You wanna get one last glimpse of your oldest brother before ye get taken away? I'll miss ye too, wee brither. So will your fairy friends." The reply was full of malice and sarcasm. It was easy to see that neither brother would ever enjoy seeing each other again.

Arthur's green eyes grew wide with rage at his brother's words. "I HOPE YOU BURN IN ACID, YOU EVIL-"

"He's becoming hostile, administer the sedatives."

Before Arthur could register what was happened, he felt a sharp pain in his arm and became extremely lax.

He lifted his head to look once more at his brothers. Dylan was wiping his eyes with his shirt sleeve, Conner's blue eyes appeared as distant as ever and Allistor waved at him, a false smile gracing his lips. Arthur saw his brothers get hazier and hazier as he was carried off. "It'll be a cold day in Hell if I let you live this down." He muttered darkly.

The Englishman could feel himself being put into a vehicle and strapped in. Once he was seated, the two, 'nurses' got in on opposite sides of him, presumably to keep him at bay during the ride.

'This is utter shit! I can't believe that these fools are playing into Allistor's plot! He just hates me! I'm perfectly sane!'

"I-I'm perfectly... sane...! Y-y-you have to let me g-go, dammit." He slurred out, tripping over his own words.

Despite Arthur saying that he has no reason to be taken away, there is an actual reason for him to be taken away. It goes back a bit, though.

About to middle school to be exact.

In 7th grade was when people began to think that Arthur Kirkland was more than just a small nerdy boy always buried in a fantasy book.

Oh no, the blond Brit used to talk to himself avidly, about various topics, from what type of tea to have with his book to whether it was a good idea to tell some girl that her skirt is bunchy on her backside.

But if you were to ask Arthur who he was talking to, he would say 'Flying Mint Bunny' or 'Lady Tink' or 'the dastardly Captain Hook', to name a few.

The young man had 'imaginary friends'. Yup, at the age of 12, Arthur had little invisible creatures he would talk to on a regular basis.

Not many people found it to be a huge problem, some actually found it cute, though it did lead to the Englishman to have a small number of people he could call friends during those tender years; not that he particularly WANTED friends to begin with. He'd like to say- or rather, 'Lady Tink' would like to say that Flying Mint Bunny, Captain Hook and herself were the only friends he needed.

This statement was what lead to Arthur's little 'problem' growing into something quiet large.

Funny thing is it was brought to light when a teacher asked him who his best friend was, to which Arthur answered "Flying Mint Bunny" then proceeded to pat the air lovingly while smiling.

Said teacher sent him to the counselor's office right away and a whole mess started involving a psychiatrist and his brothers that ended in him being diagnosed with mild schizophrenia as well as SPD.

One and a half out of his three brothers were supportive of his newfound illness. Dylan was ever so kind to him, going almost out of his way to make sure he was happy while Conner acted indifferent most of the time, not being mean, but also not being nice, per say. Allistor, who seemed to never like Arthur to begin with, acted much worse than before to the youngest Kirkland.

Fortunately, he passed through middle school and high school without much incident. It was almost like he floated above his peers and they just brushed him off. With his 'friends', he was safe and happy.

Well, that was until he graduated high school.

It was then that most things began to go downhill anyway.

This started with the 'snapping' of his Scottish brother.

**(8 months earlier)**

Allistor burst into the Kirkland household filled with rage. His bright red hair seemed to be on fire and his green eyes were alight with a fury one could only describe as hatred.

He chucked off his jumper from his cricket flannels, tossing it onto the floor away from where he was standing. The Scot then slammed the door, hitting his bat on the back of his shoes, as he did to prepare himself to make a run.

"I'm sick and tired of your bullshit Arthur! There is no such thing as a 'flying mint bunny' you nutter! Get over it already, it wasn't cute when you were little and isn't cute now that you're 19 bloody years old!"

Arthur shot up from reading an old novel, looking towards his eldest brother with a look of confusion and anger on his face. "What the bloody hell are you going on about, Allistor?" The young adult was honestly confused by his brother's loud and bitter statement. He's been doing quite well in not talking to his 'friends' in public.

That seemed to only make the Scotsman more crossed. "What am I going on about?! Your crazy imaginary friends or demons or whatever are what I'm going on about! I'm sick of it I am and if you don't stop," he twirled the cricket bat in his hand and slowly walked towards his younger brother.

"I'll beat the creatures out of you!"

Arthur, after processing what Allistor was talking about, immediately stood up and sprinted to the door, to get away from his now snapped brother.

The furious red head chased after Arthur, jumping over the blue striped sofa and tackling the blond to the hard wooden floor.

Allistor began punching the man beneath him, Arthur guarding some punches. The younger man was able to maneuver himself to kick the red head in the chest, scrambling away as soon as Allistor flew off.

"You've finally gone off your rocker!" Arthur screamed at Allistor. "I've never done anything to you! Why do you hate me so much?!"

The aforementioned man steadied himself then glared at the blond with intense rage in his eyes.

The older man's face turned as red as his hair. "Why do I hate you?! You ruin EVERYTHING! I can't go anywhere without people asking me if my crazy brother is still taking to his bloody 'friends'! I'm laughed at; our other brothers are laughed at because of YOU!"

Allistor's voice got hoarse, it breaking under the raw emotions and constant yelling. "It was YOU who drove mum to kill herself, YOU'RE the reason why Dylan didn't grow up with a father, the man HATED YOU! Everyone hates you! Nobody wants to be around you! They ALL LEAVE AND NEVER LOOK BACK! Even our own bloody GRANDPARENTS want us out of their lives because of a bratty little Nancy FREAK! Why wouldn't I hate you?!"

Arthur looked at his brother's face, searching for the part that gave away that he was lying, or exaggerating at least. He found nothing but pain and resentment.

"Allistor..." The blond muttered, paling at the sight of what his brother has become. "Brother, I'm so dreadfully sorry-"

He was cut off by a hard slam in the jaw with the cricket bat. A crunch was heard, Arthur could only imagine it as a tooth falling out. "DON'T YOU _DARE_ CALLED ME 'BROTHER'! YOU ARE NO BROTHER OF MINE!"

Allistor readied the cricket bat to swing again. "Sorry won't cut it, either! The only thing that'll fix YOU will be you not being here!"

He swung, harder than before, striking the blond Englishman square in the face once again. Arthur spun around from the force, and then fell to the floor, clutching his cheek where the bat struck. The crunch echoed through the room, his jaw could be dislocated this time.

Allistor jumped on him once more, punching him again, in the chest, arms and face, striking him with the end of the bat, drawing blood.

Arthur spat the blood in his mouth out onto the Scotsman's face, then flipped them over and hit his brother with almost as much force as he was hit with.

This, brawl, went on for nearly twenty minutes, both men bloodied and bruised almost to the point of them being unrecognizable, stopping when Dylan walked in from errands.

"What the hell are you two doing?!" He shouted, dropping grocery bags and shedding his boots in favor of running to break his brothers apart.

Dylan ended up calling in Conner (who was napping upstairs as the fight happened downstairs) to pull the Scot and Arthur away from each other.

As Allistor was being carried away by Conner, Arthur could hear him saying "It'll be too long a wait to get you out of here! I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you're gone, freak!"

Arthur didn't know he was crying until Dylan started dapping his tears away. "No need to cry, Artie. Allistor is just, he's just an angry person. Don't worry about what he says." The younger nodded lightly, his neck stiff from being hit so much. Dylan looked him over and noticed the slack jaw on his brother. "Fuck, he really banged you up this time, didn't he? Open your mouth, Art."

Arthur shook his head as best he could without rattling his jaw too much. The Welshman frowned. "Arthur, I know your teeth must hurt a ton from Alli's bat, but I need to see just how bad it is."

When Arthur finally opened his mouth, blood poured out down his chin, and he screamed in as the pain of the motion registered with him.

Dylan paled. "Shit! Conner! We need to get Arthur to the hospital NOW!"

Conner ran down the stairs, Allistor behind him. "So does this bloodied idiot. His hand is broken, so is his nose."

Dylan pulled Arthur up gently, guiding him to the van with Conner and Allistor behind him.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, and tense. "Why isn't Arthur talking?" Conner questioned. Allistor smiled, a wide grin showing his bloodied teeth. "I broke the little bitch's jaw."

Once at the hospital, Arthur was found to have a fractured jaw, minor concussion and a few missing teeth, among other lacerations that require stitching. Allistor got the better end of the stick, only being found to have a few broken fingers on his left hand and a broken nose, also coupled with deep lacerations a broken tooth.

The Scot_ laughed_ when Arthur was getting his mouth wired shut, finding it hilarious how much pain the younger man was in.

The only solitude the Englishman found was talking to his 'friends', reassuring them that what Allistor said was false, that they weren't demons, saying that they were his very best friends.

It was a few days after Arthur had his jaw wired shut and head wrapped that he was scheduled to have an appointment with his psychologist. The sessions were lengthened as a result of Arthur's incident. Soon, his schizophrenia was upgraded to severe as was his SPD.

After this and a few testimonies from Allistor of Arthur's 'violent episodes' (all of which were provoked and entertained by the Scotsman himself), the Kirkland's got a call of a lifetime.

No, not for the lottery, though Allistor likes to think it as such, the call was from Arthur's psychiatrist, saying that he qualifies to be places in a mental institute.

The news wasn't at all pleasant for the young man; Arthur had absolutely no interest in leaving his home. He talked with the fair Lady Tink and she suggested that he didn't go, while Flying Mint just told him to do what made him happy.

Allistor started another fight with Arthur the day the nurses from the institute came. This time, Arthur got extremely livid, not calming down even after being pulled off of the red haired man, causing them to deal with the fiery Englishman accordingly.

"You are here, Mr. Kirkland."

Arthur looked up at the large pleasant looking pale orange building with the name neatly printed on the side. It read 'Grandly Harrison's Mental Asylum for Long Term Care' in bright blue.

_'Such a cheerful name…' _ he thought solemnly.

"Once you are inside, you will not be able to leave until you are deemed safe to leave. Right now, you are at a high danger level." One nurse said, face and voice impassive.

"Meaning you will probably not get out anytime soon." The other said, less impassive but just as pessimistically.

_'I seriously hate my brother.'_

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_**A/N: Hellllllooooooo Hetalia fandom! This'll be my first story published to Hetalia and I hope you guys like it! The idea may not be the newest thing, but I'm sure it'll be a treat for those looking for something new. Arthur and his family are fun to write so far, and I hope to continue! Please favorite, follow and/or review if you want, but what I really want you lovely people to do is enjoy! If you have any suggestions, comments or questions, feel free to PM me or leave it as a review, it'll be greatly appreciated and I'll happily answer them as soon as I can. **__  
_


	2. Seeing Something New

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, claim to own it, or am a writer or illustrator for it, the person you are thinking if is Hidekaz Himaruya, and you should love him.**

**Warning(s): swearing**

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The facility looked almost as pleasant on the inside as it did on the outside. The walls were covered in a light blue paint with brightly colored paintings hanging uniformly above darker blue chairs.

Straight ahead was a mahogany desk with a bored looking woman with curly black hair sitting at it typing on a computer. Her brown eyes looked up when she saw the two male nurses carrying in Arthur and a smile appeared on her face.

"Melissa, could you page Dr. Harrison? A new patient has just arrived." The less impassive nurse said to the woman, his blue eyes shining at her to accompany the flirty smile on his face. He winked at her.

"Sure thing Nick." Melissa giggled and typed something on the computer. _'Ew, flirting in the work place. This has to be against some sort of rule.'_ Arthur thought bitterly. The computer sounded off a small chime. "He has been notified and is expecting your arrival shortly." She informed them.

_'That detestable man... Why did he have to diagnose me with this lie!'__  
_  
"I don't have schizophrenia! Unhand me at once!" Arthur shouted loudly, trying to rip his arms out of the nurses' grip.

"Sorry Mr. Kirkland, but you have it on your record. Looks like it says it severe, too. You can't go against what the doctor says." Melissa said kindly, her tone telling you she's been through this more than once.

"To hell with that! You're all mistaken!" he pleaded. '_They have to understand, I'm not ill!' _

"Swearing will get you nowhere~. Might as well stop now." Nick taunted.

"Would it do you any trouble as to not pester the patients." The other nurse said, his tone signaling that it wasn't a suggestion.

Nick sneered. "Aw, is James developing a soft spot for the newbie?"

James scoffed. "No. But I can have your pay docked for rude behavior towards a patient." Turning his head away from Nick, his black hair following suit.

The other man frowned then began muttering obscenities under his breath about James, to which the latter promptly ignored.

"Let me go!" Arthur yelled.

"No." Was the reply.

"I'm not insane! I don't belong!" _'Why don't they get it?'_

"Your file says otherwise."

"You have to trust me, I shouldn't be here!" he tried to reason.

Nick and James started to shut out Arthur's claims. The two have dealt with patients like him before, so it wasn't new to have pleas of sanity from them.

They approached the door leading to the office, anticipation hanging in the air. James knocked on the door softly, waiting for a cue to continue in.

"Urm, come in."

Nick opened the door wide so that all three could fit in. Straight ahead was a man, possibly 40 years of age, sitting crossed legged on his desk.

He smiled at the nurses and nodded, signaling them to leave the room.

"Hello Arthur. Won't you have a seat?" the man said gently, motioning to the green long chair a few feet away.

"Dr. Harrison." The Englishman replied hastily. He walked over to the chair and slowly sat down.

"How are you doing, Arthur? I haven't talked to you in a while."

Arthur scowled. "Well, I got the wires taken out of my mouth a few weeks ago. Dreadfully painful. And Conner has announced that his fiancée is pregnant. The wedding was moved to up from June to April because of that. Oh yes, also," the blond man's voice got louder, anger seeping in his tone, "I'm being held hostage in a MENTAL ASYLUM."

The doctor sighed, running a hand through his dark brown and grey hair. "Arthur, you aren't being held hostage." He said calmly. "Because of your tests over the years, you've been deemed unsuitable to make your own decisions. Since Allistor is your oldest next of kin, he's who decides if you are to be here or not."

Arthur stood up, filled with rage.

"He's WHAT?! That wanker is going to decide my fate?! HE HATES ME! THAT'S THE _WORST_ DECISION YOU HAVE EVER MADE!"

Dr. Harrison smiled at the angry man. "I know your relationship with your eldest brother, so I got Conner and Dylan to look over your papers and fill them out as well. It was a vote, you see, and all of your brothers unanimously decided to send you here."

The statement did nothing to calm Arthur's nerves, and the Brit began to pace across the room angrily.

Arthur heard the older male sigh once again. "I shouldn't have said that, how about we-"

"You know what I think? I think that they ALL hate me. Probably much less than Allistor, but enough. I mean, Dylan is trying to move in with his girlfriend, Conner already officially lives with his fiancée, they only ever helped after the fights, when I was bloodied and bruised and broken and in need of a blasted hospital. THEY didn't stop it before it got too bad, OH NO, that bastard Conner even sat and WATCHED a few times!"

His pacing increased. "My brothers didn't really support my dreams. I got a scholarship to Cambridge. CAMBRIDGE. The noble one back in England. That's a bloody good school and quite difficult to get into. And I got a scholarship to go! My being here means I can't go back to University. I WANTED to go to University and finish! I'll be the only Kirkland not to complete study at Cambridge! My family's name is on the line!" The Brit threw himself onto the long chair, landing on his back and covering his face with his hands.

"My life is ruined! What am I supposed to do now? I wanted to become a novelist! I guess I could pull a John Clare and not be formally trained as a writer. But that won't go over well with publishers. 'A wee queer lad wants to publish his fantasy novelette? Hogwash! A load of bullocks that is!' It'll be brutal."

He looked up at the ceiling, his misty green eyes fixed on a spot. "Um Minty? Well I suppose that'll work. What so you say M'lady?" The young man began to laugh. "Yes yes, that will certainly work!"

The doctor watched as his patient talked to his 'friends'. He wrote a few notes down on Arthur then flipped himself over onto his stomach, the man letting his arms hang over the front of his desk.

"Arthur." He said slowly, thinking of what he wanted to say.

Aforementioned man turned his head towards the doctor, trying to calm his giggles. "Yes?"

Dr. Harrison just HAD to smile at him. The blond looked so happy. But one was able to tell it was only temporary. He's known the Englishman long enough to know it was a matter of time before he was angry and sardonic again.

"Didn't you transfer over to Harvard this year? I'm sure you'll be able to pick up where you left off once you leave here."

Arthur looked over to the doctor. "Yes yes, I did, but I don't know if they'll LET me back. Cap't? Oh you fiend! I can't believe you just said that!" He laughed and poked at the air.

His laughter grew and Dr. Harrison let him be for a few minutes. Arthur deserves a bit of happiness.

"Dr. Harrison? I have something to tell you."

"Yes Arthur. Tell away."

A smirk appeared on his face. "The Lady Tinker Bella fancies you. She finds you very handsome." He paused for a moment then laughed again. "Oh my apologies Lady Tink, Minty dared me to tell! Take it up with him if you didn't like it!"

The doctor picked up his notes and wrote another point before replying. "Tell 'the Lady Tinker Bella' that her complement is flattering." Best to ease Arthur into facility by going with his claims at first.

They went on talking for a good 20 minutes, Arthur explaining some things about himself, as well as talking to his 'friends' and Dr. Harrison giving some advise and counseling while entertaining the Brit and ever so subtly hinting to the younger man that he shouldn't listen to his 'friends' all the time.

The brown haired man looked at the wall clock. "Arthur, we're almost out of time for today." He said, moving off of the desk to walk over to Arthur. He picked something off of his printer on his way over and folded it.

"Here," The doctor handed Arthur the paper. "That's your schedule. It also has your room number, floor number and the location of the activity room and pantry. You'll be meeting with me twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays, for one-on-one at 3pm, and then two more times for group on Tuesdays and Fridays at 12:30. On Wednesday you'll have an activity planned to do all day, and Saturdays and Sundays are basically free days for you."He walked Arthur to the door and opened it. "If you have any questions or forget anything, it's on that piece of paper. You can also ask one of the nurses."

Soon after, he spotted James and called him over. "Could you show Arthur to his room please? 417. Thank you."

James made an unpleasant face. "417? Are you sure that's a good idea to put him there? With..."

The doctor nodded. "He's been doing much better. Much_ much_ better actually and it would be nice if he had a roommate for a change."

Arthur's eyes widened. "What you two talking about? A roommate? Who is it?"

He went ignored. "Still, he's not really a person you'd-"

"Thank you James. Please take Arthur to his room." Dr. Harrison smiled grimly at the nurse, leaving no room for argument.

James and Arthur walked away from the door, the latter confused to high hell about what that conversation was about.

"Dada daaaa, dada dada daaaa, dada dada da, DAAAAA! Here I come!"

"Oh NO." James said, face palming.

"What the bloody hell- who is that? And why is he so _loud_?"

A tall blond man appeared around the corner, glasses bouncing, blue eyes _sparkling_ with enthusiasm, running full speed towards Dr. Harrison's office, a large grin on his face.

Arthur saw that he had no intention to stop or move around him, so he braced himself to be slammed into, but it never happened.

"No need to fear, simple citizen! I am the hero, Globo Man! Here to protect the world from evil in all forms! Now," he bent down to met eye to eye with the Brit, much to Arthur's displeasure.

"Who ARE you, citizen? I know all of the civilians here, so are you new?!"

Arthur quickly got annoyed. "I don't have to tell you who I am! And you AREN'T a superhero!"

James started to panic. "No, Arthur, apologize, you don't know what you're doing."

The taller blond frowned. "I am TOO a hero! And I'll prove it!" He went to the lobby and stood at the end of the room, facing a wall blank of paintings and chairs.

The blond ran at the wall, running up it a good 6 feet then flipped off, landing upright. "See? I can walk up WALLS! Can a simple citizen like you do that?"

Arthur grew red. "Any hyperactive git can do that! Proves nothing."

The other man frowned even more and walked back over to Arthur and James. "Oh yea? Well can you do THIS?" He exhaled, and with a loud yell drop kicked the wall, creating a large hole in it. Fortunately, he was fast enough not to get his feet stuck in the hole.

James grew livid. "Dammit! Alfred, we told you not to kick the walls anymore! And did you just come from outside?! There's mud on the lobby wall!" He exclaimed.

Alfred calmed down in a matter of seconds, his face falling. "Oh shit man, I did this?! You know I'm sorry, bro. I can't help it."

Arthur didn't know what to say. Didn't Alfred know he kicked the wall?

Dr. Harrison appeared out of his office and immediately saw the saddened blond. "Oh Alfred, let's go into my office and talk about it." He wrapped his arm around his shoulder and guided him to the room.

"I'm so sorry Doc; I didn't mean to do it again. I just…" Alfred trailed off and became silent, covering his face with his hands.

The doctor smiled sweetly at Alfred. "It's perfectly fine, Alfred. You've been getting better. It's much less frequent than it was before, so no need to fret."

The two went into the room and closed the door, but soon after shouts could be heard, as well as crashes and banging on the door.

Arthur became frightened by the display. "Is he… is he, alright…?" The Englishman asked hesitantly, still trying to wrap his head around what just happened.

James' voice was calm and quiet. "He's not the worst case, but not the best either. Alfred is… he's getting better."

They headed up to Arthur's room in a melancholy silence, neither so much as audibly breathing.

"You're roommate will give you a tour of the place later, he has already been advised to do so."

James pushed opened the white double doors, revealing fairly spacious a grey and white room, a shower unit to the immediate right, double vanity sink and toilet opposite that, and two beds straight ahead, a wall between them.

On one of the beds sat a large man. He had an eerily pleasant look dawned, platinum hair framing his round face, making him look more childish and sweet than most.

He stood up, coming to his full height, dwarfing Arthur, standing at least 8 inches taller than the Englishman.

His light purple eyes were shining. "Yay! I get a roommate, da? We will have so much fun making together!"

Arthur could hear an accent on his voice, east European, he picked out. _'Most likely a Russian.'_

"Good luck." James said quietly, then exited the room.

A panicked expression could be seen on Arthur's face.

The large man quickly walked over to Arthur and grabbed his hands.

"We will be the best friends, yes? I am Ivan Braginski, and you are my new roommate!"

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**A/N: Andddddd, chapter two! Hmmm, looks like Arthur has met some new and very interesting people this time. We also got a bit more info about our favorite Englishman. Hey, you guys, how about we try and guess some ages here?! Won't that be fun? No? Well, do it anyway! To pass the time. I'd like to thank the amazing _liz42Awesome, Angelic Fluffle, DawnSketchthepony, IDon'tSleepTooGood, chukaliteluvver, Elizaveta Hedervary and Sora Resi  
_for reviewing, the wonderful people on Tumblr that dropped me some comments/asks and my beautiful readers who all fav'd, followed and read! Glad you guys are enjoying this, and I hope you also enjoy the next chappie! All I'll tell is, more characters! Remember to read, favorite, follow review and most of all enjoy! **


	3. Um, this is Different

**A/N: Sorry for late update... something extremely tragic and saddening has happened in my life and I couldn't think straight. My deepest apologies for the potential badness of this chapter. I hope you guys can still enjoy it, even though it's late. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, claim to own it, or am a writer or illustrator for it, the person you are thinking if is Hidekaz Himaruya, and you should start making your shrine to him now if you haven't already. **

**Warning(s): swearing**

* * *

The two roommates toured the building first thing the next morning; Ivan being unnervingly cheery despite his situation the entire time. It wasn't like Arthur didn't _welcome _the positive emotion; it just raised many questions that the Brit didn't want to have.

"Grandly Harrison's is a very fun place! There are a lot of people here and most of them are really nice! We all get to play games and the nurses give us candy if we behave," Ivan paused and leaned in towards Arthur's ear. "I haven't been behaving lately, so I haven't gotten any candy, but they took me off of Floor Zero yesterday, so that's my reward!" The large man leaned back up and walked a bit ahead of Arthur, a large grin on his face.

"I also get a new roommate, and so far he has been very nice as well, yes? I hope we will get to know each other more before I have to go back to Floor Zero." The man said happily.

Arthur was, awestruck, to say in the least. He hasn't even been at the hospital a day and he's already met enough personalities to last him a lifetime of headache. And what was this about a 'Floor Zero'? He'll have to ask.

"Oh, my apologies, new friend, but I did not ask you for your name!" Ivan lightly hit himself on the head and rolled his eyes. "Silly me!"

The Brit waved his hand dismissively. "Oh no, it's alright, Ivan, was it? My name is Arthur Kirkland. Charmed to make your acquaintance."

The large Russian giggled and grabbed Arthur's hand again. "That is a good name! You are the first 'Arthur' I have met here! This is very good!"

Arthur chuckled nervously. "Um, yes, I suppose it is, Ivan. Um, what is 'Floor Zero'? It sounds, interesting."

Ivan's lighthearted face suddenly fell into an alarmingly serious expression. "Floor Zero is where you go if you are not good. I would not want my new friend to go there." He gripped the smaller man's hand tighter. "I also would not want my new friend to send me there, like the others."

Arthur's voice squeaked. "O-others?" Ivan's demeanor turned back to a happy one. "Oh just forget about that, da? I have to show you more rooms here! There is the pantry and the activity room and-" he paused for a moment, putting his finger on his cheek cutely. "I think that's it! Besides the offices, but those don't count."

The two soon arrived to what seemed to be a kitchen. It was fairly big, and looked very much like a modern kitchen one would find in a household. A small cream colored table and chair set was in the middle of the hardwood floor space. Beautiful matching wooden cabinets and brown marbled countertops almost made one forget exactly _where _they were.

"Wow… this must of cost a lot of money…" Arthur mumbled. Ivan shook his head. "_Nyet, _we also get some government funding and many third party donations, so things such as these cost nothing! It is very nice though, da?" The Brit agreed.

"There are no real plates or cups or cutlery," the large Russian said, opening a drawer and taking out a fork. He then slowly took the fork and bent it in half. "They are all plastic! It is for safety, they say, but I think it is so no one has to wash many dishes." He giggled out. Ivan threw the fork onto the floor and grabbed his roommate's hand again. "Now we go to the activity room!"

They exited the kitchen quickly and went into a door right next to it. Once inside, Arthur was impressed by what he saw. The room was very modern and stylish, like the kitchen, but with a different color scheme. Blue and white sofa sets, chairs, bookshelves and tables were neatly placed around the room. A large screen television with a game console was in front of a sofa set and people were crowded around it. To the left was a computer area, which was occupied with other patients as well.

Ivan shouted a greeting to everyone in the room, to which most ignored. A handful of patients, though, actually got up and greeted the large man like he was old friend.

The Russian pulled Arthur over to a sofa and pushed him down onto it. "You sit here, and I will get some more friends to meet you, da?"

Arthur silently agreed, waiting patiently as one could for the Russia to come back with new people.

He didn't, though.

Minutes passed, and the green eyed man just sat on the sofa, looking blankly ahead at the patients gathered around the television.

'_This place is… I can't put my finger on it… eerily peaceful? Shockingly normal for a mental hospital, I'll say that. It's more of a summer camp; a summer camp you stay at forever… ugh, that sounded very melodramatic.' _

Arthur felt the sofa dip with added weight next to him. He turned to face the new person, and was greeted with a tired smile and deep, sort of lost looking, blue eyes.

"Bonjour…" the man lazily said, some of his wiry blond hair dropping delicately in front of his face.

The Brit shifted slightly. "Um, hello. What's your name?"

The man scratched his stubbly chin and his smile grew. "It is very rude to ask for a person's name without first introducing yourself, no? You are quite churlish for an Englishman."

Arthur grew angered fast, the volume of his voice letting that be evident. "Nobody asked _you _to give me lessons in manners! I'll do what I bloody well please! And it's Arthur, for your information."

The other man chuckled. "Mine is Francis. _Je suis enchantée de faire votre connaissance." _Francis took Arthur's hand gently into his, and bowed to him, lightly touching his forehead to the Brit's hand.

"I don't appreciate the French… but likewise." Arthur muttered, slowly pulling his hand away from Francis. "Though it seems you know my language pretty well." The Frenchman replied, winking at Arthur.

The Englishman grew red, and before saying his comeback, Arthur was cut off by excited noises.

"Arthur, I have found a person for you to meet!" Ivan happily said to him, pushing an equally happy looking blonde towards the two sitting on the sofa. The Russian then wondered off again.

The Brit noticed that it was the man from yesterday, Alfred, though today he was wearing a WWII bomber jacket.

"Hey, I saw you yesterday, didn't I? Sorry about that, I tend spaz out from time to time." Alfred said sheepishly.

"It's fine. I'm Arthur, by the way." Arthur stuck his hand out to Alfred, and the latter slapped it, and then lightly punched his knuckles.

'_What the hell was that?! Why did he not just shake my hand? _"Um…"

"What dude?"

"You just…"

"I just what, man?"

Francis intervened. "Oh Alfred, the poor Brit is experiencing cultural shock.

Alfred was surprised. "Oh bruh, you're not from here then? Thanks for sayin', Fran." He sat down next to Arthur. "So, where are you from then?"

The Englishman straightened up. "London."

The bomber jacket clad blond tilted his head. "Ontario? You don't sound Canadian."

"Not Canada! England! I was raised in the area my entire life. And you two?"

Alfred spoke up first. "Well, I was born in Boston, but I moved Cali when I was 6, then Georgia when I was 10. Moved up here for high school and stayed. You know how it goes."

"I am from Paris." Francis said slowly. "Though I moved here for college."

Arthur sneered. "Oh yes, I could tell _you _were a Parisian."

"As I could tell that you were a Londoner." He replied in equal tone.

"Whoa there, you two. No need to be all hostile when you just met." Alfred said, chuckling afterwards. "But hey, Arthur, what room do you have?"

Arthur answered with a simple, "417." Alfred smiled. "Dude, I didn't realize _you _were Ivan's roomie! That's awesome; he's a cool guy once you get to know him. 417 is 3 doors up from my room and across the hall from Fran's."

"Oh, that's great; I'll know someone besides Ivan on the floor."

They continued on conversing at a steady pace. Talking about, well, as much as three people in a mental hospital could talk about. So, their topics included the a quick run over of how things are at Grandly Harrison's, weather, light politics (before it started to go over Alfred's head), Doctor Who (before it started to go over Francis' head) and cooking (before it started to go over Arthur's head).

"What are you in here for, Arthur?" Francis asked.

The aforementioned man used his sleeve to wipe his eyes after laughing at a joke Alfred said.

"Is this a thing that we do here? Ask each other 'what we're in for'?! What fun!" the green eyed man said joyfully. "The doctors _say _I have schizophrenia, but I don't believe them at all. My friends are always there to help me, so I don't see a problem. What about you lads?"

Alfred spoke up. "As you've seen, I have dissociative identity disorder. A.K.A, multiple personalities, but the first sounds more great, so I use that."

Arthur frowned slightly at the American's grammar. "It's 'better', Alfred. Not 'more great',"

"What's better?" the younger man asked. Arthur face palmed. "Just- never mind it. How about you, Francis, 'what are you in for'?"

The Frenchman answered nonchalantly, "Substance-induced psychosis, among other substance-related disorders." He sighed gently. "I'm also a histrionic, but it's fairly minor, so no need to worry about that one."

Arthur began to feel embarrassed. Not _for _the Frenchman, but more for himself for asking him about it. But, as all things, curiosity got the best of him. "So, you're a-" "A druggie? Why yes, I am."

"An _ex-druggie, _Francis, remember that. You haven't used in years." Alfred said heatedly, throwing a glare at Arthur.

"Oh Alfred, you sweet boy, once a person is a druggie, they are always a druggie. I have told you this."

Alfred stood up. "NO. This asshole comes in here like he fucking knows you and starts saying shit he knows nothing about. Who the hell gave _you _the right to pass judgment on people?!" the younger man shouted, growing more and more angry by the second. He turned towards the door and walked in its direction. "I have group." He left without another word.

The room, well, the part that Arthur and Francis were in, was silent. "I didn't know it was a touchy subject…" the Englishman muttered.

Francis smiled calmly. "It is alright. I am used to it, and Alfred is more hurt by it than I am. That's just him being passionate about his friends. Once you're here for a while, he'll let that part of him take over to protect you as well." Arthur looked up. "Did he know you outside of here?" "_Non._" Was the quiet reply. "Oh. Um…"

"You have more questions?" _'Could someone help themselves from having questions about how exactly a person like you got here? And Alfred… he's fairly, interesting.' _Arthur just nodded. Francis said back, "Ask away, I do not mind. I need to pass time before group."

And Arthur asked. Fairly personal questions were asked, if he'd say so, but Francis encouraged it, actually. And time did indeed pass. An hour and 45 minutes, just about, and the two Europeans didn't tire of talking. Francis asked the same, fairly personal questions right back, as to keep the conversation as equal as possible. It was like a huge, weird game of 20 questions.

"How are so calm now? I read that histrionics are flirtatious and outgoing. You're very…"

"Somber? Yes, it is the medication I am on. I am not usually like this, but I my symptoms came back harshly earlier this week. I'm still under its effects." The older man leaned in closer. "Am I not flirty enough for you, Londoner?"

Arthur grew red, from embarrassment or anger, he wasn't sure. "Definitely not! Who would want to flirt with a-" Francis put a finger up to his lips. "There is no need for shouting, _mon ami_. I was just, how do they say, joshing you." He stood up and looked at the clock on the wall. "It's time for group therapy for me." The blue eyed man walked towards the door, then turned to face Arthur again. "Before I go, I must ask, you have schizophrenia, yes? Then why have you not talked to, or referenced your 'friends', if they are always there?"

This made Arthur go blank for a moment. _'I haven't talked to them since I, since I started talking with Francis and Alfred...' _

"Food for thought, no? See you later, Arthur."

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**A/N: Alright you guys, chapter 3. Sorry, this just isn't my week. I lost someone very important to me, and many people may think of it as silly, but I'm hurt by this. Any spelling errors, grammar errors, OOCness and just general badness please tell me via PM or message on Tumblr so I can hurry to fix it. I'd like to thank you all for reading, and special thanks go out to those who fav'd and followed, as well as a very special thanks to _Angelic Fluffle, Sora Resi, Amy Kitty _and _ThePrussianCross _taking time out of their day to review. I appreciate it. Everyone, please enjoy this chapter and tell me what should/could happen next chapter, as well as fav, follow and review. **


	4. Bottle of Regret

**A/N: Chapter 4 you guysssss. This one is interesting, if I do say so myself.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, claim to own it, or am a writer or illustrator for it, the person you are thinking if is Hidekaz Himaruya, and you should start making your shrine to him now if you haven't already.**

**Warning(s): swearing, new character, medical stuff (someone please check me on something I may have wrong, thanks)**

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It was a bright, fresh, sunny day at Grandly Harrison's. The building looked as pleasant as ever, with its pale, pastel orange beaming oh so cutely, and its lively blue letters presenting the name proudly.

Today looked like it was going to be very peaceful and, dare it be said, fun.

Well, not on Floor Zero. Not for Lovino Vargas. Oh no, _never, _for Lovino.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU FUCKING MEAN I HAVE TO GO TO GOD DAMN THERAPY NOW? THIS ISN'T MY SCHEDULED DAY, THIS ISN'T MY SCHEDULED TIME. I JUST FINISHED BREAKFAST, BASTARD, I'M NOT ABOUT TO GO TALK TO FUCKING DR. HARRISON ABOUT MY LIFE. I GOTTA SLEEP. I DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOU BITCH ASS MOTHER FUCKING ASSHOLES ABOUT JACK _SHIT!"_

"It's best if you listen to us, Lovino. Maybe then you'll get off Floor Zero." James tried to reason with the angry man. Why did he have to get put in charge of this certain patient? Nick never has to do this stuff; he never has to deal with patients like Lovino.

"ARE YOU SHITING ME, YOU BASTARD?! DR. FUCKING HARRISON DOESN'T GIVE A RAT'S PARASITE FILLED ANUS ABOUT IF I GET OFF OF FLOOR ZERO OR NOT." Lovino shouted at the top of his lungs.

The fiery Italian was then pulled out of the blank, white room into the cool blue colored hallway of Floor Zero.

Lovino was seriously sick of this floor. He was sick of his routine, though he secretly appreciated the only constant in his life.

With this new, earlier meeting time, he's missing a critical part of his daily plan; the part when he sleeps in until group. Extremely important to Lovino, though he prefers to not be this lazy, it's better to be by oneself and your subconscious before dealing with others.

"You are fucking up my life James, THIS IS WHY I FUCKING HATE THIS PLACE IT IS ALWAYS MESSING UP THE SHIT I WANT TO DO."

The male nurse lead Lovino into the elevator, where the hazel eyed man proceeded to punch the buttons until they all glowed a bright yellow.

James sighed. Once the two made it to the first floor, the nurse pushed Lovino out of the door and closed the elevator.

"Dammit, this isn't my fucking time, why the hell do I have to come up here?" The young man muttered, past the front desk towards Dr. Harrison's office.

Lovino knocked on the door and awaited the calm face of the doctor to appear. "Hello, Lovino. Why don't you come in?" he said, opening the door wider so that the Italian could walk in.

The younger man just crossed his arms and stared at the door. "I'm not fucking going in there, I don't have to listen to you shit eating bastard."

"Well, you can't come in then." Dr. Harrison said with a smile, slowly closing the door. "Wait!" Lovino shouted, pushing the door open and walking in. He shut it once he was inside and laid down on the long chair near the doctor's desk.

"Tell me about your week so far, Lovino. How have you been doing?" the doctor asked softly.

The Italian sucked his teeth and turned away from the older man. "I'm still fucking stuck on Floor Zero. What the fuck do I look like stuck on the crazy floor? I'm not a psycho like some of these other bastards."

"If you were to stop attacking the nurses, then maybe you'd get off sooner. The time resets every time you lash out." Dr. Harrison stated.

"I'VE BEEN THERE FOR 7 MOTHER FUCKING MONTHS. IF I WAS EVER GOING TO GET OFF, I WOULD HAVE BY NOW. THAT FUCKHEAD IVAN HASN'T EVEN BE THERE THAT LONG." His shouts were loud, as they always were, and actually not angry, also as they always were.

The doctor rested his chin on his hand and looked at Lovino passively. "To be honest, I was thinking of having you taken off today. Back on Floor Four, back with your old roommate, though."

The Italian's hazel eyes widened. "You've gotta be shittin' me, Dr. Fuckface. About time you assholes let me onto Floor Four again."

Dr. Harrison nodded. "You've been away long enough. And Ivan has been complaining that his record was being broken, and it was creeping people out."

"Everything that bastard does is creepy as fuck, so how is this different?" the older man chuckled.

The doctor stood up. "I know how much you like to be alone. This was all I called you in for."

Lovino frowned. "No." he planted himself firmly into the seat. Dr. Harrison sat on top of his desk and crossed his legs. "You act just like-"

"DON'T compare me to that damned bastard. Aren't you supposed to ask me shit about my life so far or something girly like that? Hop to it fuckface, all day is something I do not fucking have."

Actually Lovino, it is, but saying such things isn't wise, is it? "So, how have your symptoms been?" the older man asked smoothly.

The hazel eyed man sucked his teeth once again, turning in the velvety long chair to face the middle aged doctor. "Fan-fuckin'-tastic. The tiny ants under my skin have stopped fucking like god damned rabbits and are now just walking around doing ant like shit. And my nails are soaring to new lengths of getting on my last fucking nerves, so I think it's time for Eliza to cut them. She's not busy, is she?"

"Have you ever thought of being a poet? That was a very creative way to tell me that you aren't that itchy anymore and you've stopped biting your nails."

"ABSOLUTELY NO. Poetry is for those punk asses in argyle and matching socks without a sense of rhythm and an ear for what doesn't sound like Komodo dragon shit."

The graying man chuckled at his patient. "There's a new ward here, and I don't think he'd take too kindly to that opinion."

Lovino raised an eyebrow. "What, is he one of those pretentious assmunchers like that? You act like I seriously give two shits Dr. Fuckface. OOPS! LOOKS LIKE I DO NOT." The man stood up and walk towards the door.

"If you were still wondering, Elizabeta shouldn't be busy with anything."

"Fuck you, bastard!"

Lovino left the room and made his way upstairs to see one of the only nurses that was nice to him. Her and her husband always had their doors open to Lovino if he needed advise or a shoulder to vent into if it has gotten to that point. Not that he accepted the invitation much, but it was a very gracious opening.

The biggest question is though, is Lovino still welcome?

Once he made it to the head nurse's office, Lovino hesitated. When was the last time he saw the woman, 4 months ago? 5 months? He didn't want to cross into territory he was no longer welcome in.

He stood at the door for a good half hour. Too scared, no, not scared, uneasy, to go in.

This feeling, this _mood _he was in was absolutely the worst of them all. The uneasiness washed over him, freezing his normally fiery self right down to the core. They were supposed to help him here, but he still gets this way, so what was the point?

The Hungarian woman ended up walking out of the room, long brown hair let down today, a pretty crown of pink and white flowers with green leaves resting on her head. _'They must have made them in group today…'_

She saw the look in his eyes, the look that conflicted with his expression; that one look in his eyes that wanted reassurance but was hidden behind the annoyed look on his face. And Elizabeta did what she knew was best to do; grab the younger man's arm and guild him into the office.

"You were outside my door for a while, weren't you Lovino?" she asked, walking him over to a chair near her desk.

He shook his head no, but she knew he couldn't help himself not lie when it comes to this.

"I'm sorry for not knowing, sweetie. You know you're always welcome."

Lovino lifted his hand up to the Hungarian woman's eye level, showing her how long they've gotten. "Could you clip my damn nails…?"

Elizabeta went into her desk drawers and retrieved a nail clippers and nail file.

She clipped each nail down to a respectable size, admiring the strong looking, yet small hands of the Italian. The reddened knuckles have calmed to blend with the rest of his olive skin, the little paper cut like mark scars faded. It made her happy.

"That doesn't matter, you know. I don't give a damn; you don't need to be so welcoming."

"And you don't need to be so hostile to a person that wants to help you through this."

He sucked his teeth.

"I heard you got off Floor Zero. Aren't you happy about that?" the woman asked, green eyes looking over Lovino's fingers as she filed the nails even.

"It's whatever to me. As long as I don't have to interact with any of the other patients, I don't care." He snapped.

'_I didn't mean that…'_

She nodded.

This was standard as far as Lovino's actions went. He regretted it most of the time. Luckily he has the understanding motherly Elizabeta to confide in.

"The cravings are back. I didn't tell that fuckface Harrison, but I though you should know."

Elizabeta frowned then stood up and walked over to her desk, sanitizing her hands then pulling out a pair of gloves, a flash light and a tongue compressor. "Open your mouth, sweet heart."

He didn't, as she expected. Elizabeta gripped his jaw and opened it with her other hand. "Keep it open." She ordered as she stuck the compressor in and pushed his tongue to the side to see the area better.

"Why the fuck do you always have to do this?! I haven't been eating in a while, dammit!"

She searched the Italian's mouth for signs of him acting on his addition, hoping she didn't.

The brown haired woman found them. Lovino's tongue and cheek had small lacerations covering the fleshy surface, as well as evidence of dulling teeth.

Elizabeta pulled the tongue compressor out and went back over to her desk, pulling off the gloves and throwing them away along with the tongue compressor.

She put her hands on her desk, looking down at her computer screen. "Where and how much?" Elizabeta muttered.

"Why the hell do I have to say?!" _'I don't want you to hate me for not listening to you.' _

"Because it's dangerous to your health, Lovino! Now answer me, WHERE AND HOW MUCH?!" she looked up and shouted, gripping the edge of the desk.

He looked away from her harsh gaze. "I found a beer bottle outside the other day. A passerby must have thrown it over the fence and I- I couldn't help myself."

"That doesn't answer how much, Lovino."

The Italian looked down at his hands. "All of it."

The Hungarian woman shot up from her desk and went over to the young man. She threw arm arms around him and pulled him close. "Who the hell let you do this again? Who?" she gripped him tighter "Who?!" Lovino just stood still, looking over the woman's shoulder onto the floor, hazel eyes glazed in silent resentment for telling her.

She didn't let him answer before she let go and sent a message alerting someone of the situation.

"Why the hell did you tell anyone this?" he shouted, looking up at her finally.

Elizabeta turned her eyes to him. "Because unlike your damn _parents _that brushed you off as a delinquent, _I care._"

She paced back and forth, waiting for someone to come in the room, hopefully with nutrient bags and a test set to see where Lovino's health was standing at this point.

Minutes passed in a horrifying silence, only to be broken by light taps of loafers hitting the floor and heavy breathing.

'_Why the fuck did I tell anyone again? This always fucking happens.'_

"Elizabeta, I got your message and came as quickly as I could." A brown haired doctor burst into the room saying, pushing a cart with IV bags and drips on it. The doctor was followed by another nurse, and she was pushing a gurney. The Austrian pushed the cart into a corner next to a chair then pointed to the gurney for Lovino to lie on while the other nurse left to prepare a room.

A relived looked appeared on the head nurse's face. _'Thank God Roderich came.' _

Elizabeta immediately got to work preparing Lovino for the drip, rolling up his sleeve and finding the vein for the drip to go in.

"It was just a bottle. A little beer bottle." Lovino said quietly, though with anger in his tone.

Nobody said anything as they pushed the Italian to the medical ward. He was observed for a while, tests were run and IVs were filled to meet his needs as they tried to pinpoint where the objects were in his system.

"Lovino's iron levels are low, as well as his vitamin levels. The bags we have on him now are providing the nutrients he needs at the moment." Roderich explained to Dr. Harrison.

"Thank you, Dr. Edelstein. How serious is his condition right now?" the psychologist asked, looking over at the hazel eyed Italian on the bed.

Roderich pushed his glasses up and looked at the clipboard in his hand. "Luckily, since he's been here he hasn't dropped the habit of crushing the glass before consuming it, so there are no large shards to worry about tearing anything inside of him." The violet eyed man looked over the information some more before continuing. "He has depleted his iron levels to a dangerous low again, as I've said, so we need to keep him on the nutrients. Aerobics aren't advised, but he is cleared to move about if he has an activity today."

"As long as he has his IV, yes?"

Roderich nodded.

Lovino was then taken to his group session with Dr. Harrison via wheelchair.

They made it down stairs and to the meeting room in time, and Lovino was met with multiple people, old and new.

He passed someone he didn't know before and nearly ran over their foot, too angry at this morning's happenings to really even care at this point. "Excuse you!" the patient said, snapping out of whatever thought he had to address the wheelchair bound man. "Watch where the fuck you're stepping, bastard." He responded, flipping off the person.

The Italian wheeled over next to a familiar person, though his name slipped his mind at the second. The man smiled at him politely, and gave a small, 'hello.'

'_Not that it fucking matters who this bastard is though. These shit for brains doctors have me hooked up to all this crap like I actually need it. Fuck them.' _

"It's great to see everyone here today." Dr. Harrison said, looking around the room at all his patients. "I hope you all had a good week, and are ready to explore each other more. Today, we have a new member of the 12:30 Friday block. His name is Arthur Kirkland, and he just arrived at Grandly Harrison's yesterday. Everyone welcome Arthur, and then we can get started."

A round of 'hello Arthur's rang through the room. The aforementioned man stood up then smiled and waved sheepishly.

Dr. Harrison looked over at Lovino. "Lovino, you didn't greet Arthur."

The Italian man crossed his arms and muttered, "God damned bastard, welcome to hell."

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**A/N: Alright, chapter four introduces our favorite angry Italian, Lovino! Lovino suffers from a few illnesses, though his most serious involve is eating habits. So far, he has my favorite backstory, aside from Ivan. Hopefully you guys enjoy Lovi and his mess in future chapters. Next chapter we're gonna be back on with Arthur, so stay tuned! Again, any spelling errors, grammar errors, OOCness or anything else, please PM me so I can hurry up and fix/work on that crap. ****I'd like to thank you all for reading, and special thanks go out to those who fav'd and followed, as well as a very special thanks to _Sora Resi, Angelic Fluffle _and an anon that goes by the name _MokaRaiden _for being awesome and reviewing. I'd also like to thank all the wondrous folks over on Tumblr that drop such nice comments. *blows kisses to you all* Drop some comments saying what should happen in group, since that'll be awesome to hear. Please read, fav, follow, _review _and most of all, ENJOY!**


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